


Asleep and Dreaming

by cyprianlatewood



Series: 69 Love Songs Vol 4 [2]
Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Family Feels, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mosaic, Not Beta Read, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 16:33:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29439048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cyprianlatewood/pseuds/cyprianlatewood
Summary: More Magnetic Fields-inspired angsty fluff. Revision of S503 - Q and El go back to Fillory to try and infiltrate the Dark King's Court, but take a detour along the way to revisit some memories.Songhere
Relationships: Quentin Coldwater/Eliot Waugh
Series: 69 Love Songs Vol 4 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2162388
Comments: 6
Kudos: 22





	Asleep and Dreaming

_I've seen you laugh at nothing at all  
__I've seen you sadly weeping  
__The sweetest thing I ever saw  
__Was you asleep and dreaming_  
  
-The Magnetic Fields, 69 Love Songs

When Q woke up the next morning, he was alone, and for a moment he felt his heart drop into his stomach. Had Eliot left again? But no, his clothes were still there, folded up on the chair. He heard activity in the kitchen, so he pulled on a t-shirt and sweatpants and made his way out to see who was there.

Margo and Josh and Fen were lounging around the table with mimosas. They didn’t even look up as he entered. His eyes immediately sought out El’s form, facing away as he was doing something at the counter. Then he turned, and Q saw that he was holding a plate full of fancy brunch-esque food (courtesy Josh, presumably) and two steaming mugs of coffee. He started to walk back towards the hall but looked up and almost dropped his plate when he saw Q standing there sheepishly in his sweats. 

“Morning,” Q mumbled, strangely shy as he looked up at El in his silk robe, all long legs and arms and wild curls and more elegant than anyone deserved to be at breakfast. But he knew the smile that started in El’s eyes and then lit up the rest of his entire face when he saw Q standing there - that was just for him.

“Hello, sleepyhead. I was just coming to bring you breakfast in bed, but I guess we can eat out here if you like.” Quentin felt a bit nervous. How did El want them to act together, in front of their friends? He really kind of wanted to pull El back into the bedroom, not necessarily for sex reasons (although definitely those, as well), but mostly so they could stay in their little bubble for a bit longer before facing reality. Out here, would he pretend nothing had happened? Would Quentin have to sit out of touching range, drinking coffee and sneaking glances at him in that clinging silk robe all through breakfast? 

He barely had time to worry. El must have seen the hesitation on his face, because he put the plate and cups down on the counter and came over to pull Q into an embrace. He cupped a hand around his jaw and tilted his head up, caressing his cheek with his thumb before leaning down to kiss him. The kiss deepened, and Q’s hands came up to grip lightly at the edges of his robe. Eliot’s other hand snaked around his waist just under the tshirt and pulled him in, and just as Quentin felt like he might need to drag them back to the bedroom after all, he heard a wolf whistle from Margo. He felt Eliot’s chest rumble through his hands and his smile against his lips as he chuckled warmly. Quentin gave her the finger as they rested their foreheads together for a second, catching their breath. Then they pulled apart and Quentin helped him carry the dishes over to the table. 

The trio made space for them and they took up half of it, chairs as close as possible. The conversation continued around them as he turned to look at El. Their eyes met, and Eliot’s earnest look seemed to be asking permission. _Is this okay?_ Q had never been great at making his face convey what he wanted (he’d been told it was quite expressive of emotions he wanted to keep hidden, on the other hand) but he hoped it was clearly broadcasting _this is more than okay_. It seemed to work because Eliot pressed his shin and knee very deliberately up against Q’s leg and wrapped his foot around the back of Q’s ankle. Then he nonchalantly leaned forward, picked up a slice of bacon off the plate, and started to eat it while turning his attention to the conversation at hand. Q leaned forward as well, their shoulders crowding together as he grabbed the fork and took a bite of the poached egg in hollandaise. They continued to eat, sharing a single plate and fork for no logical reason, and while it made Q pink with embarrassment over how corny it was, he was also thrilled by the domesticity of it all. 

Eventually, Q tuned into what they were talking about. Apparently, Josh and Fen had created a tournament in the past to create a Centurion guard and this was Margo’s key to getting unbanished. Because it was Yellow Ferret Month, the tournament was happening right now. So they were working out a plan for her to win. 

“It’s not just about the unbanishing - this is a great chance to get close to the Dark King, find out his deal,” Josh broke in.

“Umm, can somebody explain the whole Dark King thing to me?” Quentin broke in. Margo gave Eliot an exasperated look.

“It’s wasn’t exactly on the top of important discussion topics last night,” Eliot said, affronted, and Quentin snorted. 

“Yeah, yeah, you were too busy tenderly banging, we get it, old news. Anyway, since Eliot can’t be bothered to lie back and think of Fillory, I guess I’ll just have to fill you in.” Margo didn’t look particularly upset about that fact. “So when your spell blew up Everett at the seam -“ (Eliot’s hand clenched tighter around Q’s - when had he taken his hand? - obviously having heard how close Q had been to getting hit with the spell right along with him) “it released a fuckton of magic everywhere on Earth, which you know. But it also somehow fucked up the time sync with Fillory, so they are now 300 years in the future.”

“That’s not good,” Q breathed.

“Yeah, no shit. So obviously we tried to get into Whitespire and find out what was going on - it turns out there’s some Dark King on the throne who has been in charge for basically all of that time. And then I got thrown in the dungeon, but we figured out how to nab Fen and Josh and from the past, staged a jailbreak, and then came back here to figure out what to do next. And I guess what we do next is fight some assholes, which sounds like my kinda fun.”

Q couldn’t help it. He laughed. Margo was just so - Margo. He gave a short giggle and she glared at him. “Did El suck your sanity out through your dick? What the fuck is funny about that shit?” Even Eliot was giving him a suspicious look. 

“I’m sorry, I just - well you know, I actually do have a bit of a history with laughing at inappropriate times, but also I just - it’s so good to hear your stories again. I really missed you, Margo.”

“Oh, well, okay then. I missed you too, I guess, you weirdo.” But she was smiling. Eliot was looking at him misty-eyed, and a little forlorn. Which Q understood - it was, after all, kind of his fault that Margo and Q hadn’t seen each other in weeks. And they were obviously still gonna have to deal with their inability to communicate with each other when things got hard, and all the trauma of the past year, but for now, Q just wanted to revel in them just all being back together. He turned his palm up under Eliot’s grasp and interlaced their fingers.

“So are we going with them?” He asked Eliot. 

Eliot seemed relieved, almost like he had thought Q might renege on his promise of the night before. “If that works for you? But we should pack some things - we don’t exactly have royal rooms anymore.” 

“Yeah, only - Julia said something about you guys staying longer? Did she talk to you about the surges?” Q addressed this one the group as a whole.

“Oh, yeah, we talked to her this morning - she and Penny found a lead in the Brakebills library so they don’t need us for now,” Josh answered. “They’ll send a rabbit when they do.” 

So Q and Eliot (finally) headed back to his room to pack. “Whatever you’re planning, we’re leaving in 30 minutes, so make it quick, got it? Now is not the time for handcuffs.” Margo met Q’s eyes as he got up, and he gulped at her aggressive look, biting his lip at the image. Her eyes widened at his response and then a mischievous look came across her face. “Oh, El, you lucky boy.” Q blushed up to his hair and scuttled away, tugging Eliot behind him by the hand, who was laughing heartily as he followed. 

Back in his room, they fell immediately and easily back together, Q trying hard to keep from giggling as El nibbled at his ear. “What do you think we can accomplish in 30 minutes, huh? I know you don’t need to think about your outfits. And we should take advantage of a nice soft bed while we have the chance,” Eliot murmured, his low voice vibrating in Q’s nerve endings. 

“Hmm, I was thinking I might need to look for some color-coordinated sweatpants, you know.” Eliot’s hand slid down his chest towards his waistband and he breathed in sharply. “On second thought, maybe I can just grab a pile of whatever from the laundry.” 

And lucky for both of them, Margo was feeling generous on the 30 minute window. As they came out, nearly an hour later, with a small duffel of clothes and relevant things -

_“Just 3 books? That’s torture! There are spells for this sort of thing!”_

_“Yes, Q, but I hardly think you’ll be spending all your free time reading when you have all this - “ gesturing down the long lines of his elegantly splayed body on the bed - “ and when I have all that - “ waving in Q’s general direction with a long-suffering sigh - “to keep us distracted.”_

\- their hair tousled and lips bruised, Margo was sipping champagne and looking at some old maps. She spun dramatically in the chair and slow-clapped. “Congratulations, you’ve both been dickmatized. Can we go now, please? I’d like to get my kingdom back to what passes for normal.”

And one by one, they stepped through the clock. 

Q was the last through, and the heavy Fillorian air hit him like an axe to the gut. Or the memory of an axe to his lover’s gut. He staggered a bit under the weight, before pulling himself back upright and continuing to follow them as they trekked towards the castle. He felt his usual urge to hide in a comforting corner of his mind, but there were hardly any of those left now - unless -

The group approached the castle and turned towards the tournament grounds so Margo could register, when Q pulled Eliot to one side. “What is it?” Eliot asked, concerned.

“So umm, here’s the thing. I actually haven’t been back here since, you know, we - well, extracted the monster. So that’s a lot. And I know I said I was going to jump right into fixing this with you, but now, actually being here - “

“Say no more, Q. I understand. We can find a tavern or whatever and get you settled in.”

“Well, no, that’s not exactly what I -“ Q paused. What _did_ he want to say? He had been thinking of a comforting escape, but now he wondered if he was looking for something else. This thing between them - it just all felt too easy, too sudden, after all the months of anger and loneliness, to just jump straight into perfect domestic bliss. They were skipping over a lot of unresolved history between them, which wasn’t sitting right. Maybe he was overcomplicating things, trying to make them suffer needlessly, but - “I was thinking we could go to the Mosaic. You know, see if it’s still there…” his words tumbled out quickly.

Eliot was still for some moments, long enough to make Q feel a sinking in his stomach - he had pushed too much. He backtracked quickly. “I mean of course, it’s not like we have to, I just thought that Josh and Fen could probably handle Margo’s prep without us, and it might be - “ he stopped when he looked up and saw Eliot’s face. 

His eyes were shining in much the same way they had at their coronation so long ago. “I already went, actually,” he said quietly.

“You did?” Q breathed. “When?”

“I had to go run an errand in the clock barrens so I stopped there on the way. It was only a few weeks ago now. I -” Eliot closed his eyes and swallowed. Of course, this was before he came back to Earth, still thinking he had missed his chance. It wouldn’t have been a happy trip.

“Is it - how is it?” 

Eliot’s clenched face relaxed into a wistful smile. “You’ll just have to see for yourself,” he said fondly, and wrapped an arm around Q’s shoulder.

“Hey, you guys coming?” Josh called out. 

“No, we have a visit to make,” Eliot returned lightly. “We’ll see you at the tournament tomorrow?” 

“Uh, sure, yeah - I guess we’ll see you around then.” Josh waved, looking a bit confused, but then shrugged and followed Margo and Fen into the arena. 

El still walked with his cane, although from the way his stride seemed fairly smooth, if a little slow, Q suspected it was more for the aesthetic than any lingering pain. They didn’t talk much on the way, both lost in memories, besides pausing occasionally for water. They both knew the route by heart, and although quite a lot had changed in Fillory in 300 years, this path was the same. Quentin could feel his heart pounding as they came close to that familiar final turn into the clearing. He hesitated at the last second. _What if it was too much the same? What if it was too different? What if it had never been there at all? Why the hell had he suggested this?_ But then Eliot squeezed his shoulder. “Hey, it was hard for me too, when I came here before. But you’re not alone.” Q swallowed and nodded. Then they stepped forward around the corner. 

And it was all there, like in a dream. The clearing, the stone puzzle frame, the little cottage. Q stepped forward and started to walk around the place in a kind of trance. As he approached the puzzle, he saw that someone had filled in the tiles to one of their earliest patterns, a sunrise. The cottage was somehow still intact, as though preserved by a spell. The paint on the shutters was faded, and the roof looked in need of thatching, but Q had expected it to be rotted through, or gone completely. He ran his fingers through the dust on the ceramic plaque over the door to reveal the painted words: _The Coldwater-Waughs._ He felt Eliot’s hand on his back and turned up to look at him. 

“Have you been inside?” He asked hoarsely. Eliot nodded. Q turned the knob and opened the door. The air inside was stale, but not as bad as he would have expected - probably Eliot had aired it out a bit when he was here before. Again, everything was still intact, if a bit spare. The bedrooms had been emptied out but the kitchen still had cookware on the shelves. He recognized a few of the pieces but many were unfamiliar. “I don’t understand. Was someone living here?”

“All I can think is, Teddy - “ and Eliot had to take another break here, before continuing - “Teddy came back to clean the place up. And then, maybe one of the, umm, grandkids? Anyway, someone was taking care of this place, but certainly not recently. There seems to be some kind of time-slowing spell on the whole clearing, keeping it from decaying too quickly. Maybe he thought we would be back one day? Clearly he had been hoping for sooner than 400-odd years, but - come on, look.” 

And he pulled Q back out of the house and around the back. All Q remembered being back here was the old bathtub, but now there was a beautiful garden, grown a bit wild but still navigable. Tiny blue and white flowers clustered in a rough checkered pattern several feet across, with a dirt path through the middle. And in the center of the path was a rough stone plinth, with the following carved into it: _In memory of Eliot, Quentin and Arielle Coldwater-Waugh. Here they lived out the beauty of all life._ And then, next to it, a smaller stone, reading simply, _Theodore Rupert Coldwater-Waugh_. 

Quentin didn’t know when his legs stopped working but he found himself on the ground, knees in the dirt before Teddy’s stone. He raised his hands to his face and found it wet with tears. In a moment Eliot was kneeling beside him, kissing the top of his head and wrapping him in his arms. They had played out a similar scene before on this very same site, in fact. They stayed this way for quite awhile, sobs wracking through Q’s chest, Eliot rubbing soothing circles into his back, his hair, his arms.

After Q had calmed down enough to speak, he sat up and gazed into Eliot’s equally damp face. “I was so worried it wasn’t real. I was so worried there would be nothing at all, I hadn’t even thought to prepare myself for it being real. For this - “ and he gestured to the little memorial. 

“It _was_ real. And I’m so sorry I made you think it meant so little for so long, Q.” El reached out to brush a line of tears off Q’s cheek, his thumb shaking a little against the skin. 

Q reached up to cover El’s hand with his own. “I forgive you. We’re here now. I’m glad they kept it for us.”

“Teddy was always such so conscientious.” Q nodded, and they were silent for a bit.

“I hope we can talk about it more, now," Q started cautiously. "There’s a lot of things I don’t remember clearly, but then something happens that will remind me, and it always hurt so much, to not be able to tell you -“

“Of course, Q. We can talk about it whenever you like. It’s the same for me - mostly it’s a blur until something happens to trigger a memory, and then it’s like it happened yesterday.”

“Should we, umm, take one more walk around? And then I guess we need to get back, before it gets dark. As much as I’d love to sleep here - “ 

“Yeah, my post-Monster physique is still a little worse for the wear. I think sleeping on dirt and rocks is out for now. We can check if there’s a room at the Two Moons.”

They helped each other up and Q looked one more time at the stones. “We can - come back here sometime, right?”

“As many times as you like, Q.” And El leaned down to kiss him again. Q didn’t think he would ever get tired of all the little casual kisses. Once El committed to something, he certainly didn’t hold back. And at the Inn, the kisses were less casual. But they were tired, so after a few minutes of heated kissing on the rickety bed, Q pulled back with a yawn. 

“Sorry, I’m not used to so much walking, I guess,” he mumbled sleepily. He tried to curl up on the bed in his clothes and go to sleep right there, but Eliot made him brush his teeth and change before crawling under the worn blankets. Once they were both in bed, Quentin tucked his head into Eliot’s bare shoulder and Eliot started to idly run his fingers through Q’s hair. 

Eliot hummed absently, thinking of an old Fillorian lullaby they used to sing to Teddy, and when he turned his head to ask Q if he remembered the next bit, he saw that Q was fast asleep. His lashes lay delicately over his cheeks, and all the lines of his face were relaxed and smooth. The downy hair on his chest brushed up against Eliot’s ribs as he breathed in and out slowly, and the warmth of his body was just on the pleasant side of “furnace.” The weight of his arm and leg on top of Eliot was grounding, and Eliot felt like his heart might explode just from this. 

To think, a few days ago, he thought he would never have this again, or have it at all in this lifetime. Q gave a little murmur and twitch in his sleep, and a tiny dream-smile flickered at his lips. Eliot took a deep breath and told himself, _you can have this. you deserve this._ He was just going to have to keep telling himself that until it felt true.


End file.
